


The Fifth Egg

by Dark Automaton (0Dark_Automaton0)



Category: Abzû (Video Game), The Pathless (Video Game)
Genre: (for different games), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, First Contact, Gen, Language Barrier, No Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, They/Them Pronouns for The Diver, and the godslayer is... himself, the diver's only social interaction thus far has been with fish, the hunter has no idea what to do with a robot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29250483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0Dark_Automaton0/pseuds/Dark%20Automaton
Summary: Life under the waves was simple, all things considered; shut down evil technology, pet some fish, meditate, rinse and repeat. However, things above the water turn out to be far stranger, especially when the Diver meets the first people they have seen since their awakening. Hilarity ensues.
Relationships: The Hunter (The Pathless) & The Diver (Abzû)
Kudos: 5





	The Fifth Egg

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, it's been forever since I've written anything, and I'm pretty sure this is the first Pathless fic on AO3 (otherwise I haven't had the opportunity to see it). It's not my neatest or most epic work, but it's here and it's a couple of horribly underappreciated games, so enjoy!

The Diver rarely slept, but when they did, they never quite knew where they would wake up. The currents of the sea could take them far from their original spot if they weren’t careful, though they hardly had any reason to worry. The mines were shut down, their production hub and master system long since turned into the grounds of a vast kelp forest, and the sea life hardly paid them any mind when they passed by. The Diver was free to drift as far as they liked, content that the Shark, the only intelligent creature that they knew of who would be concerned for them, would find them as easily as ever if she needed to.

No, they were quite happy to drift however far the ocean decided to take them. Perhaps they would find another reef, or wake up with their legs tied up in kelp again. Though, today, their sensors were jostled with the distinct sound of tapping, like a stick being poked against the hull of a submarine. Or their face. They opened their eyes, blearily noting the red, black, and white shape contrasting with the gray sky, before they startled, realizing what they were looking at was a person. Alive.

They shot up to a sitting position, realizing in an instant that they had washed ashore, or perhaps been dragged onto land, judging from the streaks in the cold sand. Looking around, the Diver noted the steep hillside and waterfalls near the small beach, driftwood littering the area like the bones of a long dead whale. The figure stepped back quickly, bow drawn and strange glowing blue arrow nocked, their- her? eyes narrowed with suspicion and confusion. The Diver watched as a brown eagle landed upon her armored shoulder, and the woman spoke a language their memory banks had only faintly recognized. Some shared vocabulary and the same phonology, but the grammar was a touch off, and even just the difference in morphology rendered her speech barely comprehensible without a good few seconds to process it.

They think she said, _“Who are you?”_ but they didn’t know how to answer.

“I mean you no harm.”

The sensors at the side of their head glowed as the automated voicebox conveyed the words, the tone cool and controlled in sharp contrast with their wide eyes and the hands held up in surrender. In the back of their mind, they understood their first words to be begging for their life, in a morbid sense of irony. They had hoped it would be something a little more poetic. Then again, they were made of metal, so they weren’t sure if the arrow would do anythi- Ah, she was talking again.

 _“What is your name?”_ She was lowering the bow, the suspicion in her eyes fading to make room for curiosity, the dark irises flicking about the Diver’s form. She was clothed head to toe in armor, the padding and protective garments obscuring her body in layers of fabric and dyed leather; compared to her, the Diver felt naked. Which was fair, their suit was their skin. And yet still, the words escaped their understanding. Just how far adrift was she from their creators?

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

_“Your name.”_

She had said it slowly, edging out the syllables until it clicked. That was a very good question. The Diver paused for a moment, their mind rummaging through their old and worn memory banks to look for something resembling a name. Unfortunately, all they could come to was a half-corrupt reference to a string of letters and numbers, and their self-appointed title, 

“I am the Diver.”


End file.
